“KYAAAAH!”
The instant the blade flashed, the Three-Horn Roe Deer’s charging cry—closer to a sonic attack than a roar—twisted into a death scream. The beast’s bodily fluids erupted belatedly. And before its blood even hit the ground, Kim Sibaek, wrapped in a soft glow, soared into the air. He spun mid-flight as if stepping off invisible footholds, and in a single motion, severed the necks of four charging beasts.
“W-Walking on air…?!”
Bae Ji-han’s mouth fell open. He had watched plenty of uncensored Hunter battle footage out of curiosity—yes, even the 19+ ones—but he had never seen such seamless, fluid strikes. If he hadn’t witnessed it with his own eyes, he would’ve scoffed that it was just CGI slicing through tofu instead of actual flesh, muscle, and bone.
As Kim Sibaek vaulted off the carcass of a falling Three-Horn Roe Deer, his saber flashed once more, and another beast burst into a spray of blood. His glowing blade swept through the air like a wave, cleaving the herd cleanly in two.
The radiant arcs of his saber laced through the air alongside the beasts’ dying screams. Though individually low-ranked, the Three-Horn Roe Deer’s swarming behavior gave them a minimum threat rating of C-rank. Still, they charged to their deaths like moths to a flame.
It felt longer than it was, but in truth, less than five minutes had passed before the entire ambush from the mist was wiped out. Only then did the stench of blood begin to settle thick in the air. Kim Sibaek landed lightly atop the scattered corpses.
Only now did Bae Ji-han realize: except for a few brief leaps, Kim Sibaek hadn’t touched the ground even once. And it wasn’t just him—every Hunter who had doubted the man, everyone who’d felt uneasy, was struck silent.
But this was a different kind of silence. Not the tense hush that had hung in the air because of Tae Woon, but a reverent stillness born of true awe.
Kim Sibaek turned back toward them with a smile, his breath unlabored. A faint, holy light surrounded him like a halo.
“Is anyone hurt?”
The moment they saw that smile, a deep trust welled up inside them. With him here, they felt like they could survive not just this portal, but any hell of monsters thrown their way.
And just like that, the group gave in—completely swayed by what was, at its core, a religious PR stunt: a public monster-subjugation service the struggling Cult used to flaunt its divine power. For Kim Sibaek, who had once humbled himself to raise Lord Biendeoé’s fading influence, this kind of spectacle was nothing new.
Kim Sibaek had sensed divine power even back on Earth. Regardless of religion, there were moments when pure-hearted clergy or devout believers unknowingly carried traces of holy energy.
But Earth’s divinity never reached out to humans, never manifested. No one could truly perceive or possess it. At most, what they carried was as fleeting as the glow of a struck match—brief, dim, and meaningless.
Things that had once been worthless. Things that had once meant nothing.
And now, Tae Woon felt it.
The moment when something once empty began to carry weight. The moment that flickering, insignificant light bloomed into true brilliance.
A radiant, sacred glow unfolded before him—as if mocking his old self, who had tried to measure divine power by such trivial sparks. It outshone even the countless fantasies he had conjured during those endless, unknowable nights.
Ah. I always believed in you, Hyung.
Tae Woon’s eyes glistened with rapture as he covered his face with a palm.
***
[Death and Beauty reports a slight recovery of divine energy.]
Even without revealing a god’s divinity, holy energy can be restored through reverence or admiration directed at their Apostles or Paladins. And since Death and Beauty governs part of the domain of death, even direct kills by her priest Kim Sibaek could yield faint results.
But that was not a permanent solution.
Kim Sibaek lowered his voice to a murmur—barely loud enough for Lord Biendeoé to hear.
“What do you want to do?”
[Death and Beauty wonders if revealing her Apostle’s status would just make people think he’s crazy.]
“Sure, maybe. But don’t you think at least one person would believe in Lord Biendeoé’s existence?”
[Death and Beauty is now deep in thought.]
While Biendeoé fell silent, lost in contemplation, Tae Woon approached. His face looked the same as always.
“Hyung, you’re way more amazing than you let on. That light—was that divine energy?”
“Yeah. A bit over the top, huh? Normally, only other clergy can sense divine energy, even when it’s used. So I got into the habit of making it visible. Turns out halos are surprisingly effective for spreading the word.”
Kim Sibaek looked a little embarrassed. It was a habit born from the hardships of trying to evangelize while leading a weak, impoverished Cult.
“Well, it definitely worked. That glow made you look amazing.”
“The monsters were exactly like the ones in Mak Slechth. I already knew their weaknesses, so it wasn’t hard.”
“If monsters could be taken down with just theory, anyone could do it. Anyway, want a towel and oil for your blade?”
“Nah, no need.”
Kim Sibaek gave his spotless white saber a casual swing. Not a single drop of blood clung to it. Those who saw the pristine blade let out another quiet gasp. Even the Hunters from the Paranormal Phenomena Response Agency, who were swiftly harvesting manastones from the corpses, kept sneaking glances at him.
Tae Woon, now standing flush against his back, casually draped his arms over Kim Sibaek’s shoulders like he was getting a piggyback ride—boldly, as if to show off in front of the others who were too hesitant to approach.
“Being carried by you inside a portal, Hyung? Honestly, best feeling ever.”
“Didn’t you say you usually just stick to other people because you’re no help in a fight?”
“…Uh. Yeah. I did.”
Kim Sibaek wasn’t the only one with things he wanted to say—Gwak Yoonsang had plenty of questions of his own. The moment he learned Kim Sibaek’s name, he ran a background check. Several people with that name turned up, but none of them seemed to match the profile of an S-rank Awakened.
He could be someone whose identity was wiped…
But if that were the case, it didn’t explain why he hadn’t restored his resident registration after all this time. It’s not like he had been missing for twenty-one years.
So maybe he’s a foreigner.
While he mulled over that, the manastone collection was completed. With so many civilians in the area, they didn’t have the luxury of wasting time. Gwak Yoonsang shelved his doubts and got the group moving again.
More than three hours passed.
There were no more ambushes from the rear. The occasional monster that leapt out of the mist was silently handled by Kim Sibaek before anyone even noticed.
The front and center of the formation weren’t much different. The civilians, walking close together under Hunter protection, made it through unscathed. It felt like there were fewer monsters than expected, but that didn’t mean the situation was normal.
Narrowing his eyes, Tae Woon measured the distance to the distant department store and muttered under his breath.
“It’s been three hours and we’re still nowhere close. In reality, it should only take five minutes.”
“Aren’t Eid Portals always like this?”
“They do distort perception and space, but for it to be this extreme… hmm. There could be a few explanations, but chances are the host of the portal is one of the department store employees.”
“Why an employee?”
“Maybe it’s the subconscious wish of an overworked worker—someone who dreads going to work and wishes the building would never get any closer.”
“Oh… yeah, that actually makes sense.”
“Speaking of, I talked to some of the others earlier—turns out well over half of them work at the department store.”
“With so many businesses operating there, some of them probably saw the host in passing at least once.”
Kim Sibaek and the Hunters were holding up fine despite the long march, but the civilians were clearly struggling. The slow pace helped, but the unchanging distance created an intense sense of psychological pressure.
“Let’s take a break and have some dinner while we’re at it.”
Gwak Yoonsang picked a good moment to call a halt. With wet, weary sighs, people slumped down and began massaging their sore legs. Combat rations were handed out for a quick meal.
Kim Sibaek, who had never served in the military, examined the rations with curiosity. Just as he’d heard, they didn’t taste great. The Hunters took turns eating while remaining alert for any signs of monsters. Once the meal was done, Gwak Yoonsang brought up what he really wanted to discuss.
“Guildmaster, I think we should hold a quick meeting. Do you have a moment?”
“Why me? I’m completely useless in a portal.”
Tae Woon answered dismissively, cleaning up both his own and Kim Sibaek’s ration packs. Under normal circumstances, Gwak Yoonsang would’ve backed off instantly, unable to get a word in edgewise. But this time, Kim Sibaek was here.
Gwak Yoonsang snuck a glance at him, trying to hide the excitement on his face. Sure enough, Kim Sibaek didn’t disappoint.
